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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846617">will i die tonight? (i don't know, is it over?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/horizsan/pseuds/horizsan'>horizsan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, End of the World, M/M, No Sexual Content, The world is ending, Ummmmmmmmm, Yeosang-centric, it's more implied, oh okay so the major character death isn't graphic, umm, yay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:09:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/horizsan/pseuds/horizsan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Wooyoung?”</p>
<p>“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t look up, barely even raises an eyebrow, erasing the four next to an iron and changing it to a six, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in concentration.</p>
<p>Yeosang sets his book down, carefully sliding a bookmark between the pages to mark his spot before he closes it, and busies his anxious fingers picking at the loose threads striping themselves across a hole in his jeans. “Do you think it’s gonna happen tonight?”</p>
<p>This time, Wooyoung looks up, even going so far as to put his pencil down and use his elbows to shove himself up into a sitting position. “Do I think what’s gonna happen tonight? The whole world ending thing?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. That.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>will i die tonight? (i don't know, is it over?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! i wanted to get this out of my drafts, so if it seems incomplete, or if the ending feels rushed, i'm sorry :((</p>
<p>also, hopefully, i will be posting an svt perf unit oneshot based off of "a quiet place" on halloween. it'll be short, 4k words at most, but i've been thinking abt the idea for almost two years, and i think i'm finally happy with the results of my ramblings about it.</p>
<p>warnings: implied/referenced underage drinking, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, the world is ending, if you find any others that need to be added here lmk in the comments.</p>
<p>the title is a lyric from "lean wit me" by juice wrld. enjoy!</p>
<p>+ abby &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>That’s the thing about death that Yeosang doesn’t like. It’s unpredictable. You really never know when it will happen. Yes, there are things you can do to increase the chances of it happening (whether to you or other people): driving while drunk, walking out into oncoming traffic when the cars have a green light and you can see that little red hand across the street telling you that pedestrians aren’t supposed to be crossing right now, doing an abundance of hardcore drugs all at the same time, etc. But really, you just never know. Yeosang doesn’t like not knowing. He doesn’t like unpredictability. He likes knowing what’s going to happen, likes having a set routine where he knows exactly what will occur next and has all his ducks in a neat little row. It’s not that he’s scared to die, per se, because he isn’t, not really, he just doesn’t like the unpredictability of the where, when, and how of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s why he hates the present time. Everyone’s been saying the world is bound to end soon, and with that end will come death, inevitable for every insignificant little being on Earth’s surface that the universe doesn’t give two shits about. But nobody knows exactly when it’s going to happen. Everything is tentative, resting on a scale that’s perfectly balanced, and no one knows what the straw to break the camel’s back will be, least of all Yeosang. He’s one of those people the universe doesn’t give two shits about, and he thinks the universe probably cares even less about him than most other people. In the grand scheme of things, he’s just a speck of dust, and he’s okay with that, he thinks. He’s less okay with not knowing when he will inevitably become nothing but a literal speck of dust; a snap of the universe’s fingers and he no longer exists, just like that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what he’s thinking about now, and he really should be focusing on the chapter of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Animal Farm</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s supposed to be reading so that he won’t fail the quiz on said chapter that will be given first thing tomorrow morning. But he’s got a sinking feeling in his stomach, endless shivers making their rounds up and down the length of his spine. Maybe this supposed end of the world will be tonight. Maybe Yeosang is psychic or something. Maybe he’s subconsciously sensing things. His eyes slide over to his left, where his lifelong best friend, Wooyoung, is laying on the floor next to him, worrying his head about balancing chemistry equations with his reference table, multiple sheets of scrap paper, and a calculator spread out around him. To Yeosang, it looks like a tornado blew through Wooyoung’s work space, but he knows that’s Wooyoung’s thing: organized disarray. Wooyoung knows exactly where everything is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Wooyoung?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t look up, barely even raises an eyebrow, erasing the four next to an iron and changing it to a six, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in concentration.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang sets his book down, carefully sliding a bookmark between the pages to mark his spot before he closes it, and busies his anxious fingers picking at the loose threads striping themselves across a hole in his jeans. “Do you think it’s gonna happen tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Wooyoung looks up, even going so far as to put his pencil down and use his elbows to shove himself up into a sitting position. “Do I think what’s gonna happen tonight? The whole world ending thing?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. That.” Another shiver makes its way down Yeosang’s spinal cord, strong enough this time to make his shoulders shake a little bit. “Do you think it’ll happen tonight? ‘Cause I’ve got a pretty bad feeling about it.” His stomach spins again, flipping over and over on itself like his body is a washing machine and his stomach is clothes on the spin cycle. He halfway feels like he’s going to be sick, and he swallows back bile when it just barely starts to rise to the back of his throat. His voice is softer as he adds, “Like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad feeling.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung’s brow furrows, and a tinge of worry seeps into his eyes. He blinks, and it’s gone. Yeosang marvels at the speed with which the emotion disappeared. Wooyoung’s always been good at that, tucking away how he truly feels to avoid making other people worried or upset. He shrugs. “I dunno. I mean, you’ve always had a good gut instinct.” He lets out a quiet snort of laughter, so as not to disturb Yeosang’s cat who’s asleep on the windowsill across the room, and adds, “Hell, I trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> gut more than I trust mine.” A joke. Yup, typical Wooyoung. Further masking emotions with humor. Sounds about right. Yeosang doesn’t particularly mind, though. He’d rather laugh at Wooyoung’s jokes than let the thoughts of nothing but sheer terror that keep crashing over his mind like turbulent ocean waves during a storm crowd his entire head. He’d rather be distracted than indulged, in this particular scenario. And Wooyoung seems to have picked up on that decently quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s always been good at that, too. Reading people. Reading Yeosang, specifically. Of course, they’ve been friends for thirteen years, that’s to be expected at this point, but he memorized the pages of Yeosang’s open book at a surprising pace, to the point where he could recite them even when Yeosang was closed too tight to be opened again. Wooyoung grabs his papers and shuffles them all together into one big pile, pushing them aside with one hand, flicking his pencil so that it rolls away too. “Well, you know what, if the world is gonna end soon, fuck homework, am I right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang lets out a chuckle, almost dry and mirthless, but not quite. There’s a faint tinge of genuinity in the sound. “Yeah, I guess so.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You remember that time in lit class a few months ago where she asked us some silly question, something along the lines of: if you knew the world was gonna end tomorrow, what would you do?” Yeosang nods. “And you remember how my answer to that question was that I would do every single drug, and I got detention after school for a week afterwards?” Yeosang nods again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Realization strikes him, and he gasps, slapping a hand over his own mouth. “Oh my God, Wooyoung, don’t tell me you’re seriously considering…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung adamantly shakes his head, and exclaims, “No, no, no! No, no, not at all. No.” His voice lowers from the vigorously assuring tone he’d taken on, and he continues, “What I’m trying to say is, we should have fun. Not necessarily drug-induced fun, unless that’s what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want, but fun. You know, like, enjoy ourselves one last time or whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Like, complete a bucket list?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung nods, a shrug of his shoulders accompanying the bobbing of his head. “I mean, yeah, but not necessarily. You know, I doubt we’re gonna be able to get to, like, fucking Paris or wherever before the night is over. But we can still do fun stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang’s eyes shift from Wooyoung to his skateboard propped up in the corner near his bedroom door, his favorite, the one with the purple wheels and really nice grip tape. Wooyoung follows Yeosang’s gaze, and both their lips turn up at the corners in little smiles. Yeosang glances at Wooyoung again, meeting his eyes, and asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re thinking skate park, I’m thinking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinking skate park.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinking skate park and possibly some alcohol.” The corner of Wooyoung’s lips quirk up in a mischievous little smirk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang shoots him a withering glare, but Wooyoung doesn’t shrink back, standing his ground instead. “Wooyoung, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung blows an exasperated breath from exaggeratedly puckered lips, flopping back down onto his back, the two sections of his bangs that hang over the bandanna wrapped around his head bouncing with the movement. “Ugh, you’re no fun. First you won’t do every single drug with me, and now you won’t even let me drink?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang heaves an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand out to brush Wooyoung’s hair out of his eyes for him, since he’s apparently too lazy to lift a finger and do it himself, or simply doesn’t care enough to. “Fine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One</span>
  </em>
  <span> wine cooler.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Make it two. Wine coolers have even less alcohol in them than beer.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. One or none, Wooyoung, take your pick.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung pouts, staring at Yeosang like a petulant child, and Yeosang gives in, because why the fuck not, you know? It’s the end of the world, what’s an extra wine cooler gonna do in the grand scheme of things?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang is leaning back against the sloped sides of one of the concrete formations in the skate park (when he was younger, he liked to imagine they were mountains), watching Wooyoung leisurely glide down one of the straights, the stubby ponytail at the back of his head blowing in the breeze he creates. Wooyoung’s silhouette is dark against the backdrop of the sunset, a tapestry of beautiful pinks, reds, and oranges bleeding out behind him. Yeosang let Wooyoung talk him into sharing one of his wine coolers with him about half an hour ago, and Yeosang can feel the faintest buzz from the alcohol at the back of his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s nice. The air around them is warm, and the concrete beneath their bodies is cool. There’s a breeze that blows through every few minutes to prevent it from getting too stuffy, and Yeosang is about ready to close his eyes and go to sleep. The atmosphere is calming enough to coax his eyes closed and lull his mind into a barely-awake state.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That is, until Wooyoung gives him a gentle kick on the side of one of his legs, his turquoise penny board in one hand, and his voice shatters the near-silence. “Get up, Yeosangie! You gotta actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> shit before we die and all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yeosang leans his head back to rest it against the curved surface of the slope behind him, and shakes his head. “I’m perfectly content right here, actually.” His teeth peek out from behind his lips as he tosses Wooyoung a cheeky smile, the other boy catching it effortlessly and sending a matching one right back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wooyoung settles down on the ground next to Yeosang, setting his board down and wrapping an arm around Yeosang’s shoulders, tugging him closer to Wooyoung’s warmth. And that’s how they stay, and that’s how they are when the world finally does come to an end, and they’re perfectly content just the way they are.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, do consider leaving a kudos, or even a comment if you're feeling particularly generous! i hope you enjoyed, have a lovely day/night!</p>
<p>+ abby &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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